Back In The Saddle
by Steff
Summary: Delia's journey as she prepares to be a midwife at Nonnatus House
1. Chapter 1

**Summary** : Delia's preparations for midwifery provokes a strong reaction from Patsy

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to them BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : I am obsessed with the lovely Delia Busby and am irrationally hoping that she is made a regular in the new series. This is my first CtM fic so please be gentle. I'm not sure I have the tone of the characters really - I've only seen bits of season 4 and 5.

A tentative knocking at the bedroom door made Barbara jump slightly as she brushed her hair. Frowning in surprise that someone would actually bother to knock at Nonnatus House, she called out, telling her visitor to enter. The young midwife's frown turned into a a warm grin of recognition as Delia Busby opened the door, smiling back an unspoken greeting.

"Hallo Delia. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Delia stepped further into Barbara's room. "Morning. I know it's your day off today. I was just wondering if you had any plans."

Barbara studied the Welsh woman's face. There was clearly an agenda behind the question. "Not really," she admitted. "I was thinking of hopping on a bus into town but I don't really have the money to do more than window shop. Why?"

Delia shifted slightly, her movements betraying a level of nervousness Barbara had seldom seen in the young nurse. "I'm after a bit of a favour actually," she told her, moving to shut the bedroom door before sitting down uninvited on Barbara's bed.

Barbara sat down beside her. "Well go on then, my crystal ball only works at weekends."

Delia smiled and relaxed slightly much to Barbara's relief. "I start my first midwifery placement in a few weeks."

"You must be so excited," Barbara interrupted, her own enthusiasm colouring her words. "Did you want help with study?"

"No, actually. I think I'm alright with that." She sighed deeply, looking like she was trying to compose herself. "The truth is, I haven't been on a bike since my accident," she continued hurriedly. "I'm going to be nervous enough as it is, so I wanted to take one stress away by getting some practice in before I have to do it for real." She looked up from the spot on the bedspread that she had been focused on and Barbara could see fear in her eyes.

"Of course I can help. But wouldn't you prefer Patsy helping you?" She asked.

Delia shook her head slowly. "Not with this, no. She went through so much when I had my accident. I know she'll have kittens at the thought of me getting on a bike. I'd like to be able to ride it with confidence once we do go out, to put her mind at rest. If I so much as wobble she'll probably insist that nurse Crane will have to drive me everywhere." The diminutive brunette sighed shakily before continuing. "I'm also terrified Barbara. And I don't want to put Patsy through that either."

Barbara nodded solemnly. "Well then, we'd better get started." She grinned impishly at the other woman and held out her hand to help Delia up from the bed. Delia couldn't help but smile back. She had a lot of time for Barbara. She was good and kind, and most importantly she was patient, something her beloved Patsy wasn't, ironically.

Outside by the bikes, Barbara was already mapping out their training session. "Okay,we're just going to walk the bikes down to the tow path. It's nice and straight along there and most importantly there are no vans."

Delia stuck out her tongue at the gentle jibe but was secretly relieved that Barbara was taking this approach. She knew that she was irrationally fearful of riding again but no matter how much she'd tried to talk herself into getting back on a bike, she hadn't been able to find the courage. Barbara's gentle teasing would take the sting of humiliation away and give her some much needed support.

Barbara smiled back. "Once we're down there, we can just ride up and down until you're confident to do a bit more."

Delia nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me." The two women set off, waving at Fred as they pushed their cycles past the gardens of Nonnatus and on towards the canal.

"So what's the plan then Delia? Are you just going to start cycling in front of Patsy on your first day out?" Barbara began conversationally.

"I haven't really thought that far ahead to be honest," the smaller brunette replied. "I can't seem to get past actually getting on the bloody thing."

"Unlike you to swear," Barbara teased.

"Unlike me to swear in English," Delia amended. Believe you me, it's quite liberating to let some real profanities out with next to no chance of being understood."

"I don't know, you should go down and listen to the dock workers - I think they do a pretty good job."

Delia laughed, feeling the tension that had been building in her shoulders lift slightly. She looked at her taller companion. "Thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it."

"Thank me when we're done," Barbara advised wisely. "You may hate me by the end of this."

Delia wrinkled her nose as she dismissed that thought out of hand. "I doubt it. You may have learned a whole new vocabulary by then though." Both women laughed as they enjoyed the weak Spring sun warming them during their walk.

Once at the towpath, Barbara found a wide area and stopped, looking at Delia expectantly. "Ready?" She prompted.

Delia stared at her bike, and started to swing her leg to sit astride but stopped, shaking her head at her indecision. Barbara waited, close enough to lend support but not so close as to crowd the young Welshwoman, She could see the nervousness and fear return to Delia's face, noting her pallor even as she began to sweat slightly.

Delia continued to stare at the bike. A myriad thoughts were racing through her head, and fuzzy memories she couldn't quite catch. She still had no recollection at all of the accident and had only the information from other people that allowed her to piece together what had happened. The overwhelming emotion she had of the whole episode was one of guilt. Guilt that she had got water into her watch, prompting the decision to take Patsy's bike. Guilt for clearly not paying attention to where she was going for her to end up in a collision with a van. Guilt that she had forgotten her mother, her father and her family. Guilt that she had forgotten about her life in London and her passion about being a nurse. But most of all she felt guilt that she had forgotten Patsy, the woman she had loved for years. In addition to that, she had allowed herself to be taken back to Wales, a place where she struggled to find her identity again, and that had meant that Patsy had suffered on her own, with no one to confide in, heartbroken and unable to get in touch. It didn't seem to matter how much Patsy reassured the younger woman that it didn't matter any more, it mattered to Delia. So if she could spare Patsy one second of fear or anxiety she would do that. She would be far more grateful to Barbara than she would ever be able to express, just as long as she could crack this paralysing anxiety and actually get back on the bike.

Barbara continued to watch her companion silently. It was clear from the range of emotions ghosting across her features that she was trying to talk herself up to do this, and Barbara knew that she would not be able to say anything to help.

After almost ten minutes of silent tension, Delia seemed to make a sudden decision and with a speed that seemed totally incongruous to the build up, swung her leg over and sat on the bike, gripping the handlebars with such ferocity, her knuckles were bleached white. Barbara waited a bit longer, allowing the nurse to settle. It was only when Delia looked up into the other woman's clear blue eyes that Barbara finally asked, "Are you ready?"

"No, but let's do this." Delia's accent was more prominent as she spoke determinedly. With a sharp exhalation of breath, Delia placed her foot on the pedal and pushed off, the bike wobbling slightly as it slowly started to pick up momentum. Within a few revolutions, Delia braked and looked back at Barbara before turning the bike around. "Well, that's a start," she declared shakily.

Barbara punched the air with triumph. "Believe it or not, that's the worst bit out of the way," she assured.

Delia shook her head dismissively. "No, that will be when I get back on the road and amongst traffic. But let's just concentrate on me going further than 20 yards and perhaps turning before we get ahead of ourselves."

Barbara grinned madly at her. "Come on then," she encouraged, getting onto her own bike.

By lunchtime the two women were cycling confidently around the tow path and very quiet streets. Barbara had been impressed by Delia's tenacity and also her natural ability. She had an easy knack for riding the bike that made Barbara rue the accident even more. They had also practised stopping quickly and really looking for hazards, building Delia's confidence with every minute she was on the bike.

Delia looked at her watch before looking at her companion. "Right, time to go to the park," she declared decisively.

"Are you sure? That will mean a couple of roads."

"I have to do this sometime, why not now when you're with me. Besides, I'll be following you so it's up to you to keep me safe," Delia told her.

"Wait a minute, I'm not sure I'm up to Patsy's wrath if I get you into trouble," Barbara admitted.

"You'll be fine," Delia reassured her. "Patsy's an angel really," she continued unknowingly repeating something she'd told Patsy herself just prior to the accident.

Barbara snorted, "I'll have to take your word for that," she retorted. "Come on then." Carefully, she picked a route through the side roads and onto a more busy street, keeping a constant eye on her cycling companion as she navigated the route. They arrived at their destination without incident and Barbara was about to stop when Delia continued cycling past her and down to the bottom end of the park. Frowning, she followed hurriedly only to smile broadly when she realised Delia's intended destination.

"Two ice creams please," Delia ordered as she halted in front of the ice cream seller. She handed the first to Barbara and handed over the money as she took her own before gesturing to a nearby bench for the two of them to sit at.

Barbara took a rather large bite from her ice cream and sat back. "I must say my day off has turned out so much better than I thought it would," she confided.

"Thanks, I think," Delia responded wryly.

"So has it helped? Do you think you can actually go out to calls now?"

"More than you know," Delia replied gratefully. "At least now I won't be quite so petrified of using a bike and once Patsy sees me on it, she'll see that I am not quite so incompetent."

"You two are awfully close," Barbara commented innocently. "It must be nice to have someone here you can rely on when your family is so far away," she continued wistfully.

"Are you lonely?" Delia asked, concern etching her features.

"I never thought I'd miss my dad - he can be a bit oppressive, but there's always that undefinable pull to your family," Barbara admitted.

Delia smiled knowingly. "I know what you mean. After my accident I could see the pain I was putting my mam through, but I couldn't stay. Pembroke just doesn't have what I need,"

"Bright lights, big city?" Barbara asked.

"You have seen Poplar, right?" Delia retorted cheekily. She grinned. "If it's any consolation, you have friends here. Don't forget that." She took another bite of her ice cream. "So," she continued brightly, "How many more lessons do you think I'll need?"

"Entirely up to you. Personally, I think all you need to do is convince Patsy to go out with you and you should be fine," she paused as she looked at Delia. "Both of you."

Delia nodded slowly. "Let's hope so. You ready for a final circuit before cycling back to Nonnatus House? Maybe just a cycle round the area?"

Barbara nodded. "Yes, but this time you're leading the way."

Delia looked startled for a second, before setting her face determinedly. "Okay then."

The trip around Poplar was trickier as the streets were busy but Delia took her time, picking routes carefully and sticking to very visible parts of the road in the hope that both she and Barbara would be clearly seen by the other road users. By the time they headed back to convent, they were cycling at a fair speed, Delia now confident of her ability and with her anxiety firmly under control.

It was as the two women reached the boundary of the property that they saw Patsy and Trixie returning their own bikes to the storage area. Patsy swung round as she heard the two women laughing as they approached and her eyes widened in horror. "Delia, are you raving mad?" She demanded, her voice rising in anger.

Delia gripped the brakes tightly and came to a quick halt. "Hi Pats. I thought it was time to get back on the bike." She explained, her pride at overcoming her fear evident in her beaming smile.

Patsy was having none of it though. "What? I've just seen you come flying down the road recklessly. Have you forgotten what happened?"

Delia's smile fell but she looked at Patsy steadily. "I am quite aware of what happened. That was why I wanted to practise before I start as a midwife."

"Practise?" Patsy scoffed, her anger in full force. "That wasn't practising. That was you flying round like an idiot like you did when you had the accident."

Delia flinched visibly, a look of desperate hurt now on her face. "Is that what happened?" She asked, her voice a whisper.

Patsy's eyes widened as she realised what she had said. "No, of course not," she tried to assure the brunette.

Delia stared steadily at the taller woman as a sick feeling developed in her stomach. "But that's how you feel, isn't it?" She pursued, her voice hollow.

"No," Patsy denied hotly but the damage was done.

Delia shook her head as she dismounted her bike and threw it to the ground. She strode into the convent, head down.

"Deels," Patsy called and started to go after her, only to be stopped by Barbara. "Patsy, that wasn't fair," she started.

Angry with herself for losing her temper and for hurting Delia, Patsy found herself snapping back at the midwife from Liverpool. "Fair? How could you Barbara? You know how ill she was."

Barbara nodded solemnly but didn't back down from Patsy's aggressive stance. "Do you know how long it took her to pluck up the courage to get on the bike? Ten minutes. She was terrified Patsy, but she didn't want to do it in front of you as she thinks she's already put you through enough."

It was Patsy's turn to flinch. "Oh God. I'm such an idiot."

"Yes you are," Trixie agreed, speaking for the first time since the spat. "But don't you dare go and see her while you're still angry. Make sure you're calm and know what you're going to say. And there better be an apology in there."

"You need to fix this Patsy, or you'll lose her," Barbara continued.

Patsy's eyes widened as she felt her heart accelerate. "What do you mean?" She asked defensively.

"You're best friends. As close as anyone I know. But you'll drive a wedge in that friendship if you don't give her any respect or trust." Unknowingly, Barbara was causing an icy grip of fear to form around Patsy's heart.

The red-haired woman nodded morosely, feeling the last flicker of anger leave her as she began to wonder what it was she needed to do to repair the damage she had done.

 **To be continued**...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary** : Delia's preparations for midwifery provokes a strong reaction from Patsy

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : Thank you so much for the lovely feedback so far. This second part has swung from relatively light-hearted to a bit more angst. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Despite desperately wanting to repair the damage she had done, Patsy took Trixie's advice and went to her own room first to change out of her uniform and order her thoughts. Her anger was no longer with Delia, but firmly pointing towards herself. The Titian-haired midwife knew that she had a propensity to bursts of emotion and knew it was a side-effect of the relentless suppression of emotions that she maintained, learned through a life time of practice. The trouble was, every now and again the lid burst off and she would over-react completely. She sat down heavily on her bed as she replayed the scene in her head. Delia had been right, as usual. Patsy shook her head ruefully as she wondered how her glorious girlfriend had so easily managed to read her. It was one of the first things that she had been attracted to. The brunette had not been fooled in the slightest by Patsy's brusque coolness, and had persevered as Patsy tried to remain aloof as they worked together. Without realising it Patsy had fallen hard for the nurse and had spent a lot of time in a torturous limbo of both dreading and wishing that Delia felt the same. It had been Delia, typically who had braved the first real move, despite the incredible risk she was taking.

Patsy sighed. Delia had always been the courageous one, confronting her fears, determined to do what she believed was right. Patsy had been witness to that same attitude many times on the Ward when an overly officious or insensitive doctor dealt with a patient poorly. Despite the typically lewd comments that would fly around to all the nurses in general on the ward, any patients who were there longer than a few days became extremely protective of their nurse Busby - she was their advocate, so they would defend her, much to Matron's annoyance.

So it would be typical for Delia to do anything to protect Patsy from pain or heartache. For her to learn and ride a bike again so that Patsy wouldn't be petrified every time she left for rounds was a perfectly Delia thing to do. Patsy shook her head, annoyed at herself again. Delia had confronted her fear on her own to save Patsy's anxiety. And she had blown up at her irrationally. The dreadful thing was that a small part of Patsy's brain couldn't help but wonder if Delia had been paying attention when she was knocked down by the van. She knew it was unfair to think that way, and Sergeant Noakes had told her that the delivery van had no business being there, but it did not erase that gnawing idea that if somehow Delia had just looked where she was going, the accident would not have happened. Patsy reflected how strange it was that this small dark thought could manage to override her usual feeling of extreme guilt about the accident as, after all, it had been her bike that Delia had been riding.

Patsy felt her thoughts slow down and wondered how long she had been sat there, lost in them. There was more order in her head now, and she hurriedly stepped into some trousers and buttoned up a shirt. She took a deep breath and sighed, wondering what sort of reception Delia would give her. The red-head trod quietly down the hall and opened Delia's door without knocking, closing it quietly and leaning against it as she saw the younger woman lying on the bed, back towards her. She could tell from the tone of her body that Delia was not asleep, but she made no effort to turn around, and Patsy knew that she was in trouble.

Patsy crept round the bed and sat on the floor, hugged her knees and leaned against the bed, looking away from Delia. "I'm sorry," she began, her voice sounding hoarse with unshed tears. "I overreacted."

"I don't know what to do any more," Delia whispered, causing Patsy to frown in alarm. "I can't comfort you in public, you can barely tolerate me touching you without flinching like I've got a disease and you can't or won't trust me."

"Delia, that's not true," Patsy disputed. She took a breath, determined not to allow defensive anger to rise. "Actually, some of that is true," she admitted. "But you knew that when we first got together, and you know how stupidly repressed I am. It's not something I can change overnight."

"We've been together four years Pats," Delia reminded her. "I know I'll never be able to go shouting I love you from the rooftops, but I don't want to feel like I'm just a, I don't know, a dirty little secret that you only ever deal with on your terms."

Patsy closed her eyes, feeling hot tears of hurt and shame spill down her cheeks. "I am sorry, Deels," she repeated sincerely. "I'm such a fool. I've hurt you so much all over my own stupid insecurities." She puffed out a breath, composing her thoughts. "When I saw you on that bike, all I could think about was seeing you in that hospital bed so vulnerable and confused. All the pain of not being able to see you, thinking I'd lost you forever. It all hit me at once. I don't ever want to lose you again Deels."

"You're not the only one who suffered Patsy. I was in Wales, in a village I didn't recognise and with people I didn't know, trying to remember or at least trying to work out who I was."

* * *

Patsy was about to interrupt and give her perspective when she realised that Delia had barely spoken about her convalescence in Pembroke. Patsy had always assumed it had been straight back to family life with Delia supported by those she loved. She had almost irrationally resented the fact that she at least had been surrounded by her loved ones. But she hadn't considered that Delia might feel equally lost and confused, away from what had been a particularly formative part of her life.

Patsy got up from the floor and moved round the bed again, this time getting on and cuddling up behind Delia, wrapping an arm over her waist and interlocking her fingers with Delia's in a well-practised move. "Tell me," she prompted softly.

So Delia did, haltingly. She spoke of having daily reminders as to who the members of her family were and seeing the hurt and frustration on their faces each time they did so. She spoke about feeling isolated and trapped, unable to leave the house by herself for fear of not remembering how to get back, and of seeing constant images of a life she had no recollection of. All she knew was that her memory loss was hurting her family; she could see it plainly on her mam's face and she didn't know how to make it better.

Then, as the memories started to return, she lived in a solitary torment of trying to fathom out how they all fitted together. The memories did not return in an orderly chronological order and much of her recall at first was about nursing, which meant she had no-one to verify if the images were memories or imaginations.

Patsy could sense that she was skirting round some particular issues and wondered if again, subconsciously Delia was trying to protect her from the pain endured during that time, so she probed very gently, hoping to flag to Delia that she was prepared to hear everything. "When did you start to remember me?"

There was a long pause as Delia considered her answer. "That was particularly confusing for me," she admitted at last. "I kept getting images, or thoughts about this beautiful woman. But sometimes she was blonde, and sometimes she was auburn. It took a while before I realised it was the same person."

Patsy squeezed her hand gently, silently urging her to continue. "I didn't know why but I just knew that I couldn't talk to anyone about this mystery woman. I'd overheard my mam and dad talking one night. I didn't really catch much but I went cold when I heard my mam say something about it all being 'unnatural' and bringing shame on the village again. I knew she was talking about me, and I knew it had something to do with the woman in my thoughts and I was devastated that whatever it was I was involved with, it was something that I couldn't share." Delia's voice was raw with emotion and Patsy felt tears forming again but was determined to allow her to continue.

Delia composed herself before continuing. "Looking back now it's easy to dismiss it as me basically realising that I was queer. But due to the accident I had the joy of suffering that particular torment twice." She couldn't keep a bitter note from creeping into her voice.

Patsy was equally enthralled by the story and horrified that she had accepted Delia's previous sketchy version of events without question. She had also picked up that there was another incident back in Delia's past that would need further investigation. She cursed herself as she realised that she had just assumed Delia wouldn't want to talk about personal issues in the same way she didn't. But while her driver for tacitness was self-preservation, Delia stayed quiet to protect her from pain.

"I'm sorry," Patsy whispered, gently squeezing her hand again. "I was so wrapped up in my own misery in all this, I didn't think to consider how appalling this has been for you too."

Delia squeezed the older woman's hand back in response before taking a deep breath. "Pats, I need you to be honest with me." There was another pause as the brunette considered her words. "What do you want from this? From us? Are was always going to live on stolen moments? Is what we have worth the risk of being found out?"

Patsy couldn't blame Delia for asking her this. In fact, she knew it had been a long time coming. It had taken Delia weeks to get Patsy to go to Gateways where they could dance and hold hands without fear of reprisal, but Patsy had begun to realise the joy of being able to express her love.

"I won't lose you Delia. I'll fight for you. You make me a better person and I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you in my life," she declared determinedly. "I love you." She felt Delia start to shift and relaxed her grip enough so that the smaller woman could roll round and face her.

"Then you have to learn to trust me, Pats. You need to treat me like an equal, not just someone you can interact with on your terms."

Patsy could feel tears streaming down her face even as she nodded at the words she was hearing. "I know," she acknowledged. "I will try, and I will get it wrong again and again, but I do trust you Deels." She halted for a second. "I was jealous that it was Barbara teaching you to ride and not me," she admitted.

Delia opened her mouth to explain but was stopped as Patsy gently rested her fingers over them. "Barbara told me quite clearly why you'd gone to her. Thank you." Patsy gave Delia a lop-sided half smile. "Do you think that you could put up with my neurotic over-protectiveness and come out cycling with me on our next day off?"

Delia barked a short stab of laughter. "Of course, you fool." She winced as she recalled throwing the bike to the ground. "Although I may not be allowed use of a bike after the way I treated it."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Fred will be able to make it good as new," Patsy reassured her. She reached up and played with Delia's hair lovingly. "What I haven't said yet is that I am so proud of you for confronting your fears."

"Don't be," Delia demurred quickly. "I was terrified. It took me ages just to get on the thing."

"I am proud of you and I will always be proud of you, Delia," Patsy riposted. "You have always been so much braver than me."

"I'll remind you of that when I'm sobbing after my first day out in the community."

Patsy smiled and felt her heart lighten slightly. The damage was not repaired, not yet, but they were making progress. "Promise me one thing, Deels," she asked tentatively.

Delia frowned slightly, looking into Patsy's clear blue eyes. "What?"

"Promise to come to me and let me help with the things that scare you. Don't protect me from your pain. We need to be in this together, and it will help me get better at behaving normally around you if we share the difficult things."

Delia felt her throat constrict, feeling for the first time in a long while that they had truly made progress, and that they were perhaps moving past sleepwalking through their relationship. "I promise," she whispered, smiling shyly.

Patsy closed the gap and kissed Delia slowly and languidly. There would be time for more fevered embraces later, but for now, deep kisses of hope and security were what they both needed.

xxxxx

 **And I was going** to leave it there but am toying with writing about Delia's first shift in the community so there may be more to come


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary** : Delia's First day out in the community

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : I am so grateful for all your lovely feedback - and it really made me think about what I wanted to do with this story. This chapter is a bit more plot focused, but there will be more emotional turmoil to come; not unlike an episode of CtM.

* * *

Nurse Crane looked up from her clipboard and took a quick glance at her fob watch before addressing the four young women in front of her. "Good morning. I'm glad to see you've made the effort to attend promptly this morning. I hope this punctuality does not wear thin once you get used to nurse Busby being amongst your ranks."

Patsy frowned in mock-outrage. "We're always on time," she protested.

Nurse Crane pursed her lips at the interruption. "I will remind you of your words, no doubt, nurse Mount. Now then, duties for today." The curly-haired woman glanced at her notes again before continuing. "Nurse Mount, you'll be assisting me at the clinic today. Nurse Gilbert, you're on house calls. Nurse Busby, I understand that your proficiency in cycling has improved sufficiently for you to use that wretched source of transport?" She paused as she glanced up from her notes and Delia nodded as the other nurses laughed. "Good. You're to attend rounds with Nurse Franklin. I think you'll find plenty of practical examples of the theory you have been studying." Delia, sat at the dining table with a huge pile of textbooks, busily scribbling notes, had become a frequent occurrence at Nonnatus House.

The nurse from Leeds continued. "Nurse Franklin, I trust you will delegate appropriate tasks under supervision so that nurse Busby can start to gain experience."

Delia nodded understanding as Trixie winked at her. Patsy couldn't keep the disappointment from her face but there were no grounds to challenge nurse Crane's decision; Trixie had superlative midwifery skills and an amazing bedside manner with everyone she dealt with. Delia would be in safe hands. She reached out and clasped her lover's hand in an uncharacteristically overt manner, illiciting a look of startled joy. "Good luck," she wished her.

Delia grinned back. "Thanks."

Barbara squeezed the Welshwoman's shoulder. "Yes, good luck." Patsy was secretly overjoyed. It was perfectly acceptable to show signs of affection without second-guessing everyone else's opinions on what it might mean. The talk she had had with Delia just a couple of weeks ago had finally allowed her to put a bit of perspective on their interactions.

"She won't need it," Trixie declared breezily. "We are going to have a marvellous day," she asserted with such confidence that no one had any reason to doubt her.

With a final check of their equipment bags, Trixie and Delia made their way to the first appointment of the day. "How are you feeling?" The blonde woman asked conversationally as they pedalled slowly through the streets.

"Not sure to be honest. Excited to start, terrified I'll make a mistake and nervous I'll make a complete idiot of myself," Delia reeled off.

Trixie laughed. "Just remind yourself that you are a trained nurse. Now, you just have some extra skills. And I promise you, I won't let you make an idiot of yourself."

"I may have to remind you of that later."

"I'm sure you would have preferred to have your first shift with Patsy. I hope I'll be a suitable substitute," Trixie continued airily.

"To tell the truth I'm actually quite relieved it's not Patsy," Delia admitted.

Trixie glanced at her cycling companion quickly before returning her eyes to the road. "Why? You two are as close as anything."

"I think I'd put myself under too much pressure to try and be perfect if I was with Pats. I'd be mortified to make a mistake in front of her."

"Patsy's not like that. She's amazingly supportive," Trixie tried to reassure the younger woman.

"It's not her, it's me. I know she's brilliant, but I would be second-guessing myself and not wanting to let her down and before you know it I'd end up saying or doing something completely moronic with no way to recover. All purely self-induced I know but I am just a tad more relaxed with you."

"Thanks, I think," Trixie responded drily. She gestured for them to slow down and stop. "Mrs Jane Thomas is at Number 24. Second child, 30 weeks. This is a simple check up. Think you can get it all done?"

"I'll probably end up doing too much so do cut me off I go over the top," Delia requested.

"Delia, you are going to be just fine. I'm just grateful you already have experience as a nurse. At least you'll know how to talk to people." Trixie's legendary reassurance skills kicked in full force.

Delia smiled. "Just remember I've been on male surgical for over a year. I might need to adjust my approach."

Trixie laughed as she leaned her bike against nearby railings. "Well I'm sure we'll end up with some entertaining dinner stories," she teased and knocked on the door.

The visit went well and as they continued on their rounds, they discussed each patient interaction while they were cycling between stops. Delia was a quick learner and her garrulous manner made her a natural with the residents of the East End.

By mid-afternoon the two women were on the return leg of their rounds and were approaching a large Victorian building that housed several tenants. "Mrs Linda Wilson," Trixie advised. "Fourth pregnancy. Domestic circumstances leave a lot to be desired unfortunately."

"What do you mean?" Delia asked as they dismounted.

"Let's just say that it is quite clear the husband has no interest in her health. And I think he has quite the temper too."

Delia shuddered. "What can we do?"

"Nothing all the time Mrs Wilson doesn't say anything, unfortunately," Trixie responded. "The law is quite clear on the matter."

Delia shook her head as she knocked on the door. They waited a few moments but nothing happened. Delia flipped open the letterbox and called through the door. "Mrs Wilson, it's the midwife." Alarmingly, the only response was a pained groan. "Mrs Wilson?" Delia called again, and felt around the letterbox, hoping that a key on a string might be readily available. Unfortunately they were out of luck.

Delia stood back and lifted the doormat and then a couple of plant pots but there were no keys to be found.

"Any ideas?" She asked Trixie.

"No. You've just looked in all the places I would have. Try the door, just in case it's open."

Delia pushed at the door but it wouldn't budge. There was another moan, this time louder.

"Let me see if I can find help," Trixie said, looking back out onto the main road. Delia nodded and then surveyed the building as Trixie ran off. Running up the side of the building was a drainpipe and a window on the second floor was open. Delia looked at the building dubiously. She had been a past master at getting into the Nurses home via drainpipe when they missed curfew, but this was definitely higher. Hearing another cry of pain made up her mind however, and she boosted herself onto the nearby coal cellar to give her a start on the wall.

Trixie looked up and down the street quickly. It was typical that when you needed help, it was never around. They would need someone to help break down the door, or perhaps a ladder to climb into a window - if one was open. Just as she was about to give up and consider breaking a window to get in, she had the most amazing luck. A fire engine was rolling down the street at a steady pace. She leapt out into the road and waved at the appliance madly.

The vehicle pulled to a stop quickly and the passenger door opened. A tall fireman jumped down and approached. "What's up love?"

"Hello there. I wonder if you can help. We're trying to visit a patient. We can hear her cry out but we can't get into the building - the door's locked."

The fireman smiled at her and nodded. Trixie thought he was rather handsome in a rugged way. "Sort of our speciality love," he observed. "Lead the way." Trixie turned round and headed back to the property, frowning when she realised that there was no sign of Delia. She looked around to no avail and then decided that gaining entry was the current priority.

"This door here," she gestured to the fireman. She looked over and saw that he had been joined by two colleagues, both of whom were carrying axes.

"Don't worry. We'll get this sorted for you in a jiffy." He gestured to one of the other men who raised his axe.

Suddenly there was a rattling of locks and the door swung open, a rather dishevelled looking Delia standing behind it.

"Delia, how did you get in?" Trixie was astonished.

"Drainpipe," Delia replied tersely. "Come on Trix, we've got an emergency." She turned round and sped back up the stairs without waiting to see if Trixie would follow. The blonde nurse wasted no time and grabbed her bag. "Get an ambulance please," she instructed, in full emergency response mode trotting up the stairs behind Delia. As she entered the room where Delia was, she could see the prone form of Mrs Wilson. Delia was at her head end, and checking once again for a pulse.

"I found her on the floor. She's got multiple injuries, including wounds to the head," Delia reported, her voice stilted and formal. "I didn't want to move her without some help."

Trixie surveyed the scene and could tell that the woman was bleeding heavily from somewhere. They would have to locate the cause of the haemorrhage but she had a dreadful feeling she knew exactly what was going on. "Is her airway clear?" Delia nodded. "Okay, let's see what we can do before the ambulance gets here." She thought for a second or two. "Where are her children?"

Delia shook her head. "I couldn't find them. School, maybe?" She suggested.

"Don't worry, we'll get a police officer to collect them," Trixie decided.

Between them, they did a patient assessment. It was evident that Mrs Wilson had been assaulted. It was also clear that she had miscarried but they didn't know whether that was as a result of the assault or if it had happened prior to that. Trixie elevated the woman's legs in an effort to raise her blood pressure but there wasn't much more they could do before the ambulance arrived.

As Delia finished dressing a particularly nasty head wound, the woman's eyes fluttered open and she groaned again. "Mrs Wilson? Can you hear me?" Delia asked immediately.

"Who are you?" The woman asked her voice a whisper.

"My name is Delia and I think you know Trixie," Delia told her, internally wincing that she had been so informal. However it was clear that the woman had been through a horrific ordeal, any familiarity would only be a comfort the brunette hoped.

"What happened?"

Delia's stomach lurched. This reaction was too close to her own experiences for comfort. "What do you remember?" She asked softly.

The woman paused before grimacing. "Trevor," she stated, coldly.

"We've done a quick check up," Delia told the woman. "I know you've got some injuries, so please don't look at me as if I'm mad but this is important. Can you let me know where you hurt?"

Very carefully the two midwives did a full secondary assessment, both horrified and angry that the young woman had been subjected to such an ordeal. Trixie spoke continuously, providing words of comfort and sincere concern. Delia marvelled at the nurse. She had been unable to find anything reassuring to say and was having a difficult time suppressing her own reaction to the horrible incident.

"He never means it," Linda stated. "It's the alcohol talking. He always begs for forgiveness once he's sober."

"That's no excuse,". Trixie demurred. "He's hiding behind that as a reason to do whatever he wants."

"Mrs Wilson, you need to say something," Delia urged.

"To what end? It's his name on the rent agreement. I'd have to leave and who's going to take a woman with 4 kids?" Mrs Wilson sounded hopelessly bitter. There was sound from downstairs.

"I think that's the ambulance, Mrs Wilson," Trixie continued. "They'll take you to the London for treatment. You could speak to someone there."

"Speak to someone about what?" A gruff voice demanded from behind them. Delia looked up to see a tall bear of a man glowering at them from the doorway.

"Trevor, I'm sorry," Linda sobbed. "I didn't let anyone in, I promise."

"Well they're here now."

"I'm sorry Mr Wilson, we heard crying so I climbed through a window to investigate," Delia explained calmly. It was clear that the man was seething so she didn't want to do anything to provoke a volatile response.

"Since when do nurses do breaking and entering?" The man appeared completely non-plussed by the situation.

"Mr Wilson, your wife is seriously injured," Trixie pointed out placidly, although Delia could hear a controlled tightness in her voice. "We need to get her to hospital quickly."

The information appeared to startle the man. "Hospital?" He queried.

"Yes, she's lost a lot of blood," Delia continued, keeping her voice measured.

"Please, Trevor," his wife begged desperately.

"Oh, do what you want," Wilson barked before storming back downstairs.

Linda continued to sob. "What can I do?" She asked hopelessly.

Trixie smiled glumly. There are places where you can go," she advised tentatively, although she knew herself that none of these hostels were ideal and in fact many of them had their own list of dangers attached.

"Do you not have any family?" Delia asked. "Someone who can help?"

Linda shook her head glumly. "My sister lives in Birmingham. I'm not sure she'd put us all up."

"But it's worth an ask?" Trixie capitalised carefully.

Before Linda could respond they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs again. "Ambulance!"

As the two women stood at the back of the ambulance watching Mrs Wilson getting loaded on board, Trixie glanced at her companion. "I think I'd better go to the hospital while you go back and change," she advised Delia.

"Change?" The Welsh woman was perplexed.

"It looks like you snagged your uniform on something when you climbed up," Trixie elaborated, nodding towards the area of damaged dress.

Delia looked down at the back of her leg and groaned. "Oh no. Ruined on my first day."

Trixie laughed. "I'm sure you can sew it back together."

Delia shook her head in mock horror. "Nope, I have the most dreadful sewing skills. Barbara might help though." She brushed her hand over the damaged fabric and winced. "Ouch. I think I've snagged more than my uniform," she grumbled.

"Oh you poor thing. Do you want me to take a look?" Trixie was mortified that Delia might have sustained an injury that she hadn't spotted.

"Don't be daft. You go with Mrs Wilson. I'll stop by the clinic. I'm sure I can find someone to patch me up."

Trixie squeezed her arm. "I feel awful. Your first day and I've let you get damaged."

Delia shook her head. "Trixie you've been marvellous. I've learned loads today." Delia nodded to the ambulance. "Go on," she told her. "I'll wheel both bikes back."

Trixie nodded and jumped onboard the ambulance. Delia sighed as she watched the vehicle drive off. It certainly hadn't been a run of the mill day and she had a feeling that it wasn't over yet.

After parking up the bikes, Delia walked into the centre and searched for a familiar face. Now that she realised that she had hurt her leg, she had noticed it getting more painful. She supposed that the adrenaline from the situation she had experienced was wearing off because in addition to that, she felt weary beyond words.

"Nurse Busby!" Delia swung round and saw nurse Crane approaching. "I do hope you haven't paraded through Poplar with your uniform in such disarray. Midwives have certain standards to uphold."

Delia was not in the mood for Phyllis's barbs but managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Sorry nurse Crane, there was a medical emergency with Mrs Wilson and nurse Franklin has travelled with her to the London. Mrs McKinnon hasn't had a visit yet so I came straight here as I didn't think it was wise for me to go without supervision on my first day." She took a breath, feeling suddenly shaky. "If it had only been the uniform that was the problem, I would have gone back to Nonnatus House and enlisted nurse Gilbert's assistance in repairing it."

Nurse Crane immediately took in the young nurse's pallid complexion and her demeanour switched instantly. She approached the woman and put an arm round her gently. "I think it's not just the uniform that's damaged is it? I can see that the story behind this mishap is not one of carelessness. Come on kid, let me get you to an examination room."

Delia smiled wanly at the older nurse, grateful for such a supportive gesture and she allowed herself to be manoeuvred to a free room. Phyllis pulled the curtains round for privacy. "Wait here and I'll get someone to see to you." She whipped the curtains round her departing form and Delia stared after her somewhat bewilderedly. She had expected nurse Crane to examine her. Delia looked at the small examination cot and wondered if she should sit down but, unusually for her, a wave of indecision swept over her and she was still staring at the bed when the curtains rattled again.

"Delia!" Patsy exclaimed, in shock. Phyllis had told her that there was a patient in cubicle 4 but had not elaborated any further as she had been putting on her hat in order to attend to Mrs McKinnon. "What happened, are you ok?" The words rushed out quickly.

Delia took one look at the red-head and flung her arms round her in a hug, rules be damned. "I'm fine Pats. I just caught my leg on something when I climbed through a window."

Patsy hugged her back briefly before disengaging slightly. "This is a story I want to hear. But let me take a look at your leg first," she told her.

Delia swung her body round so that Patsy was looking at the back of her leg. "I can't really see what I've done, it just feels really sore," she told the older woman.

"Okay, hop onto the bed face down and we'll see what's happened."

Delia could tell that Patsy had switched into full-on nurse mode as her pronounciation became even more clipped than normal. As she lay on her front, she could feel Patsy move her uniform and petticoat out of the way and then, with a slight hesitancy, she felt her stocking being removed. "How bad is it?" She asked tentatively.

"A bit of nasty grazing with one slightly deeper cut. There's a bit of debris in there too. Sorry Deels, I'm going to have to clean it out before I dress it," Patsy advised, sympathy in her voice.

Delia groaned. "This is going to sting like hell, isn't it," she mused rhetorically.

"I'll be as gentle as I can. Let me just get some stuff and I'll be with you." As Patsy left the room she heaved a huge sigh of relief. She had been shocked to see Delia in there and cursed Phyllis for not warning her but the young woman's injury was superficial. Her heart was no longer racing now she knew Delia would be okay but she knew she would be fussing over her lover for some time before the rational part of her psyche kicked in again.

After gathering the required supplies, Patsy returned to the examination room and set out a kidney bowl with antiseptic and cotton wool. "I'm going to start now Deels. Are you ready?"

"I'll let you know soon enough." Delia chuckled a humourless laugh.

"What?"

Delia hissed as the antiseptic hit her skin but forced herself to remain still. "All those fantasies I had of us playing nurses has been rendered completely cold by this experience," she told Patsy through gritted teeth. "I can't imagine anything less sexy right now."

Patsy didn't answer and Delia groaned as she buried her head into her arms. "This is killing you isn't it?" Her voice was muffled almost beyond recognition.

"Absolutely," Patsy replied, her voice too bright.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Delia apologised, genuinely contrite.

"Don't be," Patsy demurred. "But you may well be teaching me another new card game tonight," she advised.

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary** : Someone does not take kindly to the suggestions of the midwives

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : This pretty much continues directly on from the last part. As always, thank you for your feedback - it really does spur me on to write more.

* * *

The nuns and the rest of the midwives were enthralled by Delia and Trixie's account of their day as they discussed it over dinner. Trixie's portrayal of Delia's antics 'breaking in' were poetically exaggerated but that did not stop sister Winifred asking how Delia managed to gain such skills. This led to the Welsh woman recounting stories of her tree-climbing days and putting her experience to good use after curfew at the Nurses Home. Sister Julienne pointed out serenely that she hoped Delia would not have cause to test the integrity of the drainpipes at Nonnatus House with such a twinkle in her eye the rest of the table laughed.

Delia's injury was not bad enough to prevent her training continuing and in the following days she got to work with all the midwives, including Patsy. The day she had spent with the red-haired nurse had been fun and engaging, and Delia's fears of making a fool of herself proved to be unfounded. Trixie and Delia also visited Mrs Wilson again, home and recuperating after her miscarriage. She seemed resigned to continue her existence with her husband and the midwives had no choice but to respect her wishes, although this pained them both.

Within a week nurse Crane was satisfied that nurse Busby could go out solo for home visits and she was certainly skilled enough to work at the clinic. Patsy damped down her fears about Delia cycling off on her own, but did admit her concern to Delia one evening when they were sat in her room. Delia responded by revealing her own fears and the two women took comfort in each other, knowing that this would have to happen eventually.

Late one Thursday afternoon, Delia and Barbara were in the facilities room, scrubbing their used equipment before utilising the autoclave. The day's routin

* * *

e round had been upended when one of their appointments presented in labour and Delia had her first experience of delivering a baby in the flesh under nurse Gilbert's careful tutelage. The birth had gone without a hitch with the young lad crying as soon as the air hit his face and Delia thought her face would ache forever after smiling so broadly for so long.

"I hate to break it to you but they aren't always that easy," Barbara said, unable to take the smile from her face either.

"Oh I know. I don't think I'll ever forget hearing Roseanne's baby crying. That wait was terrifying."

"Yes, but you got the job done and didn't panic. That's what we're about," Barbara replied.

The two women were interrupted from their conversation by a loud knocking at the front door. "Is anyone else in?" Delia queried.

"Sister Julienne and Sister Winifred should be about," Barbara supplied. On cue, there was the sound of voices but Delia and Barbara frowned as a deep male voice got louder and louder, clearly irate.

"Come on," Delia told Barbara as she left her equipment on the side.

The midwives walked into the main hall and began to hear very clearly what was being shouted. "Where is she? She's gone and taken the kids."

"Mr Wilson, please calm down and we will try to help if we can." Sister Julienne's voice was much louder than her normal placid tone and sounded very tense.

"It's your fault she's gone. They put ideas in her head."

"Who, Mr Wilson?" It was sister Winifred this time.

"That blonde tart and that Welsh bitch. They've been poisoning her mind against me." Trevor Wilson's voice was strained with rage.

It was unfortunate that Delia and Barbara appeared at that particular moment in the hall. He looked up at the sound of their footsteps and his eyes widened in recognition. "You!" He exclaimed, the sisters of Nonnatus House now forgotten. He rushed at Delia immediately and grabbed her uniform at the collar with both hands. "Where is she?" He used his large frame to tower menacingly over her.

Delia switched into self-preservation mode, years of experience on Male Surgical when patients came round from anaesthetic aggressively, kicking in. "Mr Wilson, who are you talking about?" She asked in a low steady voice, no hint of the fear she was feeling.

"Linda of course. You've been trying to get her to leave. You and that blonde slut."

"Mr Wilson!" Sister Julienne had had enough. "This is a convent. Please respect that and take your hands off nurse Busby."

The burly man looked over at the older nun and sneered at her. "You need to get your staff sorted out then. They should be promoting the holy sanctity of marriage, not telling women they should leave their husbands." He looked back down at Delia. "So where did you tell her to go?"

Through sheer force of will, Delia kept her voice level. "I have no idea where Mrs Wilson is." She was telling the truth. The last time she had spoken to Linda she had been convinced that she had no intention of doing anything other than staying put.

"Liar!" His anger spilling over, Wilson swung Delia up and slammed her into the nearby wall. "You interfering little bitch. I'll make you pay for poisoning her against me."

Delia wheezed and groaned as the air was forcibly expelled from her lungs and her head snapped back to connect with the wall, causing her to see stars momentarily. The situation was deteriorating rapidly and she had no idea how to get the man to calm down.

Barbara, weighing up the situation in a few seconds realised that she would not have the strength to wrest the man off of Delia and knew that the best option was to go for help. She spun and ran back the way she came and out of the convent, Wilson not even noticing her departure, being totally focused on Delia.

Sister Julienne stepped forward and laid her hand on the man's arm. She knew that she could not forcibly make him do anything, but hoped that a gentle touch might make him think a bit more about his actions.

Wilson didn't even acknowledge the gesture. "Come on then you little man-hater. Tell me where she is."

"Put me down, Mr Wilson. I can't help you."

Wilson would not be placated and he shoved the brunette nurse back against the wall a second time. "Well what did you tell her? Did you tell her to leave? God, you make me sick, you filthy little dyke." With that declaration he flung Delia to the floor and was about to swing his foot at her when a firm male voice from behind him spoke.

"I don't think you want to do that, Mr Wilson," advised Sgt Noakes. "I might not be able to do anything about you beating your wife but I can definitely do something about you assaulting a nurse." His usual quiet tone ringed with menace.

Wilson stopped himself from kicking Delia just barely. "Sergeant, this _dyke_ has convinced my wife..."

"I think you've said enough right now, Mr Wilson. We'll discuss the rest at the station." Sgt Noakes' cold tone was implacable as he gestured towards the door with his hand.

Wilson weighed up the situation, trying to decide if it was worth teaching the Welsh girl a lesson. He stared at her malevolently. "I can wait," he hissed at her softly, his words not loud enough to carry to the police officer. He spun on his heel and strode toward the door, offering no resistance as Sgt Noakes grabbed his arm to escort him out.

Delia pushed herself back to the wall and wrapped her arms round her legs, a haunted look on her face. She was burning with humiliation and could feel her body shaking.

Sister Julienne and Barbara, who had returned with Sgt Noakes, knelt down quickly by her side. "Nurse Busby. Are you hurt?"

Delia shook her head jerkily, not trusting herself to speak.

"I am so sorry. This should be a safe place for all of us."

Delia looked at the nun and could feel her eyes filling with tears. How could she explain that it was the words Wilson had said that had hurt her far more deeply than being slammed against the wall?

Sister Winifred could see the distress on Delia's face and sought to comfort her. "Nurse Busby, none of us believe a word he said. We couldn't possibly think something so vile of you."

She looked up at the young nun in confusion. "What?" She croaked out.

Sister Winifred looked down in sympathy at the brunette. "No-one would think you're, you know, one of _them_ ," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper dramatically as she finished her sentence.

Delia closed her eyes, feeling tears spill onto her cheeks and she took a deep breath, ready to tell sister Winifred exactly what she was but as she opened her mouth she felt a hand rest on her forearm gently. She opened her eyes and saw sister Julienne looking at her with concern. "Too much has already been said in anger and in haste today," she advised softly, causing Delia's eyes to widen in surprise. "If you can manage, let me help you to your room. I think you could perhaps use some time to collect yourself."

Delia nodded mutely and stood up, wincing as her back protested at the movement.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" Barbara asked, concern etched across her features.

Delia smiled wanly. "I'll be okay," she assured her.

Sister Julienne placed an arm round Delia's waist to provide support and guided her to the stairs. She frowned as sister Winifred moved to help. "Perhaps you could put the kettle on and make some tea," she suggested, her tone brooking no argument.

Disappointed, sister Winifred nodded and switched direction toward the kitchen leaving sister Julienne and Barbara to help Delia.

After they settled her on her bed, sister Julienne looked mildly at Barbara. "Would you mind checking on that tea?" She asked quietly.

Barbara frowned initially before realising that it was the nun's subtle attempt at getting her to leave. "Of course, sister," she replied. "I'll be back in a tick."

As the door shut sister Julienne sat down next to Delia on the small single bed. The young Welsh woman looked up from where she had been staring at the floor. "You know, don't you?" She stated rather than asked.

Sister Julienne took a moment to compose her reply. "I know nothing for certain, nurse Busby. I'm sure you know that if I did have anything confirmed to me I would be obliged to report it to your employers, but I cannot and will not report hearsay."

Delia burst into tears and held her face in her hands. She leaned into the older woman as she felt an arm go round her. When her sobs subsided slightly, she took a deep breath and let it out shakily. "When do you want me to leave?" She asked quietly.

"Leave?" Sister Julienne sounded perplexed. "Why would I want you to leave?"

Delia opened her mouth to reply when the nun spoke again. "Please remember that I must deal with what I know to be true. You are welcome here as long as you want to stay here. As it currently stands, I have no reason to ask you to leave. In fact, I rather think I'd never hear the end of it from sister Monica Joan if I did ask you to go, I feel she considers you her partner in mischief."

Delia barked a half-sob of laughter at that remark. "She does like to get me in trouble," she commented, feeling slightly better.

"And she will never change. Please nurse Busby, ensure that you give me no reason to have to act," she warned gently. Delia nodded quickly in understanding.

There was a soft tapping on the door and it opened to reveal Barbara with a cup of tea in hand and two gypsy creams balanced in the saucer. Sister Julienne stood. "I'll leave you in Nurse Gilbert's capable hands, nurse Busby," she declared. "I'm afraid this occurrence hasn't completely been dealt with and we will be obliged to provide statements, but for now, rest." She left, shutting the door gently behind her.

"Do you want me to go?" Barbara asked hesitantly as Delia shakily took a sip from her tea.

"Three sugars?" The trainee midwife asked as she tasted it, ignoring Barbara's question.

The vicar's daughter nodded shyly. "Too much? I always take mine really sweet, particularly when I've had a shock."

"Perfect," Delia told her, taking another mouthful as she handed one of the biscuits across to her friend, a clear indication that she wanted her to stay.

* * *

Downstairs, Trixie and Patsy had returned from the clinic. "Was that Trevor Wilson we saw being escorted out by Sgt Noakes?" Trixie asked sister Winifred, who had been hovering at the base of the stairs.

Grateful for someone to share the episode with, Winifred nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, there's been quite the commotion here this afternoon," she told them.

Patsy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that sister Winifred loved a bit of dramatic gossip. "Well do tell," she urged, mimicking her enthusiasm and earning a warning nudge in the ribs from Trixie.

Winifred didn't seem to notice and carried on. "Mr Wilson burst into the convent shouting about how his wife had gone missing and it was all your fault." She nodded towards Trixie at this point.

"Mine? How?" Trixie was perplexed.

"He was insisting that you had turned his wife against him and convinced her to leave him."

Trixie frowned. "Well I did tell her that she didn't deserve to be beaten by him and that she wasn't safe."

Winifred seemed almost surprised by the admission. "But they're married," she pointed out redundantly.

"Which gives him no excuse for treating her that way," Trixie stated firmly. Patsy nodded agreement.

Sister Winifred was a little taken aback by the comment but continued the story. "He was yelling at Sister Julienne when nurse Gilbert and nurse Busby came out. He called nurse Busby the most filthy name, it was hideous."

"A filthy name?" Patsy echoed, her voice slightly strangled, somehow knowing exactly what had been said.

"Yes. As if anyone would ever think a horrible thing like that of nurse Busby." Sister Winifred saw that the red-head was even paler than normal and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Don't worry, I told nurse Busby that no-one would believe she was one of _them_."

Patsy could feel herself go cold and almost dizzy at the thought of Delia having to hear an accusation she could not truthfully deny. "One of...?" She felt a hand being laid across her arm and she glanced at Trixie who was frowning at her furiously.

Forcing her voice into neutrality, Patsy looked at Winifred. "Where is she?"

"Sister Julienne took her up to her room. After he threw her at the wall, Sgt Noakes..." The young nun trailed off as she lost her audience, both women looking at each other before sprinting for the stairs. "She said she was alright," she called after them before shaking her head slightly. No matter, she was sure she would be able to share the rest of the tale later.

Patsy burst into Delia's bedroom without knocking, Trixie following closely behind. She saw Delia sat on the bed, leaning into Barbara for comfort and quickly knelt down in front of them both. "Are you alright?" She asked breathlessly.

Delia answered by flinging her arms round Patsy and hugging her tightly. She could feel Barbara adjust her position and lay a comforting hand on her back, and felt the bed give slightly as Trixie sat down on her other side, also comforting her. She nodded into Patsy's neck.

All four women stayed like that for a few moments, taking strength and comfort from each other before Delia moved back slightly. Patsy moved to make herself comfortable on the floor, and kept hold of Delia's hand as she looked at her.

It was Trixie who spoke first. "Darling, I feel terrible. It was me who was trying to convince Mrs Wilson to leave and yet he took it all out on you."

Delia shook her head, grateful to be thinking about a different aspect of the incident rather than the real hurt of the attack. "I'm glad you wasn't there Trixie. I think he would have hurt you quite badly if you had been. As it was, he only shoved me against the wall a couple of times."

"Are you sure you don't want too get checked out?" Patsy asked, concern clear in her eyes as she gripped her lover's hand more tightly.

Delia shook her head, squeezing her hand back gratefully. "It'll be bruised I know but no worse than my pride."

"Well after seeing what he did to you, I'm glad Mrs Wilson has made her escape," Barbara declared. "What a vile man."

"It sounds like he didn't think much of us either," Trixie responded flatly.

"He did say some horrible things," agreed Barbara innocently. She felt Delia tense up beside her. "Delia, you mustn't take what he said to heart. He was just being hurtful."

Delia looked up at the ceiling in an attempt to stop the tears forming in her eyes falling. She didn't know what to do. Sister Julienne had been very clear about not actually saying anything to her, but could she trust her fellow midwives? She glanced at Patsy and saw the stricken look on her face, and knew that it mirrored her own.

Patsy, sensing the young woman's distress, knew that she had to step up. "Let's not talk about that now," she voiced, looking at Barbara warningly.

It was Trixie who came to the rescue. "Well all this drama has left me absolutely parched. You couldn't do a tea run could you, Babs?" She asked brightly.

"Of course. I'll get a fresh pot on the go. I might see if I can retrieve the cake I hid from sister Monica Joan earlier, but don't get your hopes up." She left breezily, grateful to have something to do that might help Delia get out of her funk.

As soon as the door shut, Trixie turned to the other women. "Listen, I'm only going to say this once. I don't want you to say anything to me or anyone else. It's good if we can all have plausible deniability so that we don't lose our jobs..."

"Trixie..." Patsy interrupted but was quelled by a stern look from the blonde midwife.

"I won't ask you to say anything out loud, but I know. You can trust me. I'm just happy that you have each other." She smiled, genuinely emotional now that she had finally said what she had been trying to tell Patsy since she saw her running after Delia on her bike what seemed like years ago.

Patsy stared at her room-mate for a few seconds, her face drained of colour. "You won't say anything?" She whispered.

Trixie shook her head. "There's nothing to tell if you don't confirm it. But for god's sake be careful. I don't want to lose either of you to wicked rumours."

Patsy let go of Delia's hand and hugged Trixie tightly. "Thank you, Trix," she breathed in relief. "I'm so lucky to have a friend like you."

Trixie blinked back tears of her own, as it became patently clear just how much Patsy valued her. "Don't be silly darling, it's what us girls do. We stick together." She squeezed her tight again in silent thanks before releasing the embrace.

Patsy glanced at Delia and saw a strange look on her face. "Deels? Are you okay?"

Delia smiled weakly at Trixie. "You're the second person today who's said don't say anything but they know. Have we been that obvious?"

Trixie laughed. "Only if you're looking for it. And there really can be only so many card games you can teach Pats."

"Hey!" Patsy chided in mock-outrage as she batted at Trixie lightly. She looked at Delia again. "Second person?" She queried. "Does Barbara know too?"

"No, not that she's said anyway. It was sister Julienne."

Patsy's eyes opened in horror. "Oh my god."

Delia shrugged. "She simply said she would only ever act on something that was confirmed. She wouldn't pander to rumour. It was a bit of a shock when she said it."

"I bet. So she's okay with us?"

"I didn't ask," Delia responded. "I did ask if she wanted me to find somewhere else to live but she wouldn't hear of it." She grinned, Trixie's declaration and sister Julienne's kind words making her feel lighter all of a sudden. "I think she only wants me around to keep sister Monica Joan in check to be honest."

It was at that moment that Barbara returned with a tray of tea but no cake. "I can't believe sister Monica Joan found my cake hiding place. She's an utter menace."

 **To be continued...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary** : Someone does not take kindly to the suggestions of the midwives

 **Disclaimer** : Call The Midwife belongs to the BBC and others - I am simply borrowing their beautiful characters.

 **Author's** **note** : This concludes my first foray into CtM fanfic. It was only ever really meant to be a one-shot, so thank you to all the reviewers who made me think where I wanted to take this fic. To those that were worried that I was going to have Trixie or Delia really hurt, please be assured that was never my intention. I have really enjoyed writing this and sharing it with you. I have some other ideas to share too (all pupcake - all the time!) Oh, and apologies for the formatting errors in the last chapter - and possibly in this chapter too. My iPad has a mind of its own!

* * *

Patsy lightly brushed her fingertips over her lover's back, tracing the red marks that were a precursor to the bruising that would no doubt appear after Delia had been thrown into a wall earlier that day. It had felt like such a long time since she had returned from the clinic and discovered what had happened at Nonnatus House. After hurried words and a lot of tea, Delia had joined sister Julienne in her office with sister Winifred where they supplied statements about the assault. Trevor Wilson had been arrested and charged, much to Sgt Noakes' satisfaction, and was still none the wiser as to where his wife was. "Good job too. She's better off without him, nasty piece of work," the police officer commented gruffly.

Supper had been a muted affair as the others heard about what had happened and Patsy and Delia, freshly reminded to be cautious, barely looked at each other. When sister Winifred described the sick feeling she felt when she heard Delia's head hit the wall, Patsy spun round to face the Welsh woman in alarm. "You didn't tell me you'd hit your head," she accused.

"Sorry Patsy, I sort of forgot about it," Delia tried, earning a stern look of reproof from the red-haired midwife. "It doesn't hurt now," she continued, trying to placate her.

Patsy sighed, and took a moment to control her emotions and reaction. "Would you mind awfully if I checked you out, just in case you've forgotten anything else?" She asked steadily.

Delia had never heard that tone from Patsy before, and nodded her agreement. Both women made their excuses and retired to Delia's room where Patsy dutifully examined Delia's head and back. After finding an egg-size lump on the back of her head, Patsy found Phyllis and sister Julienne and told them that she would be staying the night in Delia's room so that she could keep an eye on her, given her history of head trauma. Both women had accepted this as a wise course of action, with nurse Crane going so far as to take Patsy off call for the night so Delia was sure to have someone to keep an eye on her. Trixie readily stepped up, still feeling guilty that it had been the young Welsh woman that had borne the brunt of Wilson's tirade.

Patsy had returned to Delia's room and the two had cuddled together for a while before getting ready for bed.

She leant down and kissed Delia's back softly. "I wonder if I can find another excuse to perform a vigil for tomorrow night," she whispered softly.

"Don't wish tonight away, sweetheart," Delia replied. "I'm enjoying actually relaxing here, without having half an ear listening for any possible intrusion."

Patsy moved her arm round the brunette and laced their fingers together. "Today must have been absolutely ghastly for you, Deels. I wish I'd been here."

"Don't," the younger woman demurred. "If you'd been there you would have said or done something we absolutely would not have been able to walk away from. And if he'd hurt you I would have lost my mind." It was clear that Delia had considered at length what might have happened.

Patsy sighed, knowing that she was right. "Do you think he's seen us out? Why would he say something like that?" She was half talking to herself and didn't really expect Delia to answer.

"I thought that at first. Then I realised that he was just angry that we could tell a woman what to do and have enough influence to get them to ignore their husband. I think he was just saying it to be nasty."

"It still can't have been easy to hear," Patsy commented, squeezing Delia's hand tightly. She felt the brunette tense slightly. "Deels?"

"It's not the first time it's happened," she admitted softly.

Patsy closed her eyes, hearing the hurt in Delia's voice. Knowing how painfully reticent she was herself of sharing bad experiences, she didn't want to push so she offered a way out. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Delia was quiet for so long Patsy was about to ask something completely different and change the subject when she felt the brunette squeeze her hand softly, as if trying to take comfort from her. "I was sixteen," she began. "All the kids in the village went round together. We got into the usual scrapes, and some of the boys paired up with the girls but I just wasn't interested. Well, not in the boys."

Patsy smiled and pressed her lips into Delia's back, silently encouraging her to continue.

"Me and one of the other girls always used to end up spending time together. Carolyn Morgan. She was tall and blonde and was a couple of years older than us so she had this air of sophistication about her, well she did to me."

"So you've always had a thing for tall women then?" Patsy teased lightly.

Delia let out a shaky breath and Patsy realised that she was crying. "Deels?"

The brunette sniffed slightly and cleared her throat, trying to focus again. "Sorry. It's not you, it's me being stupid."

Patsy squeezed into her slightly, and said no more, waiting for Delia to compose herself.

"I thought she was lovely. She made me laugh and talked about going to London and escaping village life. It made me really think about what I wanted to do and I realised that I felt the same. I'd always wanted to be a nurse, so what better than to go to London and learn there?"

"We were at Carolyn's one evening. We were sat in the barn up in the hay bales, talking about our big futures together and all the mischief we would get into. One minute I was lying back on the hay, howling with laughter, and the next she was kissing me and I was kissing her back. I thought my heart was going to break out of my chest. It all made sense and it all felt so right." Delia sniffed again and gripped Patsy's hand more tightly. "Of course, we knew it wasn't right, that it was _deviant_ , I suppose. But it really didn't matter to me. All I knew was that it explained so many things and completely underlined that I would never be interested in men."

"We made all sorts of promises to each other in the barn. I look back now and it all seems so naive, but I was then. In my head, my dreams of going to be a nurse in London had transformed into being a nurse in London with Carolyn. All in the space of a couple of hours. I couldn't understand it when I couldn't find her the next day, or the day after."

Patsy's shoulders dropped as she realised where this was heading , but she forced herself to keep quiet, offering comfort by rubbing small circles with her thumb over Delia's clasped hand.

"I didn't see her for three days. It was driving me mad. Eventually I found her at the village dance, with Hugh Bannister. I marched straight up to her and asked her where she'd been. She tried to give me the cold shoulder and said that she didn't know what I was talking about. I grabbed her arm and she pulled away is if I had burnt her. Hugh asked what was going on and so she told him that I had kissed her in the barn like a filthy dyke." Delia's voice choked and she stopped talking. It had happened eight years ago but it still made her burn with emotion and it still hurt.

Patsy closed her eyes and hugged the smaller woman close. She wished she could take away her pain or do anything to help, but she couldn't undo the past. She had never been subjected to such an overt accusation, but had heard some rumours said about her. Although it had been disconcerting and certainly something she didn't want repeated, it was easier to distance oneself from hushed whispers and suppositions as opposed to having something thrown straight at you publicly.

Delia sighed and coughed, trying to regain control of her voice again. "Because it was the village dance, everyone was there, including my parents. My mam went mad, shouting at Carolyn to mind her language and be careful what she said. But Carolyn wouldn't back down and stuck to it. Mam marched me home and called me a disgrace." She stopped again and Patsy could feel herself boiling with anger towards Delia's mother. "Regaining my memory of that after the accident was a real delight," she finished humourlessly.

"I'm so sorry, Delia," Patsy stated quietly. "Why did you not tell me this before?" The Titian-haired woman loved that Delia could be so expressive and had always been able to voice her thoughts and feelings, once they found a place to be alone.

"I never really found a way to bring it up in conversation," Delia replied honestly. "And you've always been so guarded and reserved I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Patsy blinked back tears. There it was again; Delia's innate kindness and thoughtfulness for others, or certainly for her. How she ever deserved this woman was beyond her.

She took a deep breath. "Deels, I wish I could take away your pain. But I can't. All I can say is that Carolyn Morgan has no idea what she has lost, and I am so grateful for her being stupid, because it means that I got to know exactly how achingly wonderful you are, and I can't imagine life without you."

She could feel Delia moving, and with the ease borne of many nights sharing a single bed, released her hold and allowed the Welsh woman to shuffle round and face her. She could see that Delia's eyes were red and puffy from crying, and she wiped the traces of tears away with gentle care.

"I swore I would never trust another woman again," Delia whispered. "And it was really easy to. I was quite happy to talk to people, and spend time with them, but it was all superficial. I never let anyone in." She smiled wanly. "Then I bumped into you on Male Surgical."

Patsy grinned. "Love at first sight?" She prompted cheekily.

Delia smiled, her first genuine smile in a long time. "Hardly; you told me off for bumping into you and almost making you drop that tray of samples." The two had often talked about their first encounter and how insignificant it had seemed at the time, yet they had both acknowledged that they had stared after each other just a fraction longer than they would have with anyone else, perhaps knowing subconsciously that there was a connection between them.

"You know, I still try and dissect that meeting," Delia admitted.

Patsy frowned. "Why?"

"I know something happened. But I couldn't tell you what. I saw that you were really guarded. Perhaps I thought you were for the same reason I was."

"You never came across as guarded. You oozed self-confidence and charm. I think you just put up a deflective persona. Bubbly Welsh nurse who gets on with everyone but never actually talks about anything other than generality."

Delia was impressed. "I am so happy I caught myself a smart girl," she decided.

"Who said it was you who caught me?" Patsy asked indignantly, but they both laughed, knowing that was exactly the case.

"I don't know how you got under my skin, but you just did. I knew that I wanted to spend time with you. I was so drawn to you, and I tried so hard not to fall in love," she smiled lovingly at the red-head. "But when it comes to my feelings for you, Patience Mount, it's like a runaway steam train - I could never stop them."

"I love you Deels. Never forget that." Patsy stopped, recalling something Delia had said earlier. "That's why it hurt you so much when I pulled away," she whispered, realising with a lurch in her stomach that her own defensive behaviour had emulated the woman that had crushed Delia all those years ago.

Delia buried her face in the crook of Patsy's neck. "Let's not dissect the conversation anymore," she mumbled, suddenly weary and very self-conscious.

Patsy kissed the top of her head lovingly. "Of course. Close your eyes and rest. I've got you."

Patsy continued to hold the smaller woman as she felt her relax and fall into an exhausted sleep. For someone with such a kind sunny disposition, Delia was far more an enigma than people realised, and just as vulnerable as anyone else. Patsy was determined to protect her and support her and demonstrate her love for her in whatever way she could, without them getting caught. It took her a long time to relax and allow slumber to overtake her.

* * *

Delia came down to breakfast late the next morning, grumbling at every stair she hobbled down. Her back was stiff and sore and she could feel it in every movement. She was still in her pyjamas, with a thick dressing gown wrapped tightly around her.

Patsy looked up from the table and smiled at her softly. "You sound worse than sister Monica Joan descending the stairs," she commented drily.

"And me, most mornings," nurse Crane agreed with a smile. "Good morning nurse Busby. I would ask if you're feeling better but I think the audio clues you provided have made that question somewhat redundant." Phyllis looked at the young nurse with concerned affection.

"I'm so sorry, nurse Crane," Delia stood at the table, a look of real worry on her face. "I tried to get dressed, but I'm too stiff. I really don't think I'll be able to go out today. I should be able to manage the telephone though," she offered.

Nurse Crane frowned and then shot a pointed look at Patsy. "Did you not tell nurse Busby she was off duty today?" She asked sharply.

Patsy cringed and looked at Delia apologetically. "Sorry Deels."

Delia stared at the willowy nurse for a few seconds before deciding to sit down. "If I'd known that I wouldn't have bothered with the ten minute fight with my brassiere," she muttered, earning a sheepish grin from the red-haired woman and a snort of laughter from Trixie.

"Don't worry, I'll give you a hand before I head into the clinic," she offered with a wink.

Patsy opened her mouth to protest, only to be cut off by the Welsh woman. "Thank you Trixie, I'd appreciate that." There was a trace of devilment back on her face and Patsy shook her head, smiling; if Delia was up to teasing her, then she was definitely feeling better.

Barbara pushed a tray of toast towards Her brunette colleague. "Dig in, you hardly ate anything yesterday." Delia smiled gratefully and winced as she reached to take three slices from the tray.

Noticing her blue eyes scanning the table, Phyllis spoke up. "You won't find any jam I'm afraid. There is..." She trailed off as sister Monica Joan wafted past and deposited a half-empty pot of jam in front of the young brunette, squeezing her shoulder affectionately as she headed for the garden. "It is not violence that best overcomes hate - nor vengeance that most certainly heals injury," she quoted as she walked past.

The occupants at the table stared in wonder first at the jam and then at Delia, as Barbara frowned. "She's quoting Jane Eyre now," she commented in confusion.

"Well, how stunningly unfair!" Trixie exclaimed loudly, earning a savage look from Patsy and looks of surprise from the others. She continued, completely unfazed. "Delia's the last one to join the house and yet she's clearly 'nun's favourite'. How did you manage that?" She asked, her teasing tone coming shining through as the others laughed.

Delia smiled broadly. "It's my Celtic charm," she advised conspiratorially. "I can just about convince anyone to do anything." She opened the donated pot of jam and slathered some generously on her toast.

"Don't I know it," muttered Patsy.

Delia raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to reply when sister Julienne joined them. "Nurse Busby, are you well?" She asked solicitously.

"Yes, thank you sister," Delia replied.

"I'm glad you're here. I've just been on the telephone with Sgt Noakes. It appears Mrs Wilson's sister contacted the police last night and told them that she was staying with her in Birmingham. It would seem that it was her pleas that Mrs Wilson finally listened to. Sgt Noakes will be charging Mr Wilson and does not believe he will cause any further issues for you or the rest of us at Nonnatus."

Both Delia and Trixie sighed with relief, and smiled at their colleagues, reassured.

Sister Julienne looked at all the midwives sat at the table. "I realised yesterday that we take our safety for granted while we live here at the convent. Whilst most people respect our house, some do not. I will not risk my girls again. I have arranged for a lock to be placed on the doors and keys for you all."

"Are you quite sure that's necessary?" Phyllis asked flatly.

"It is a sensible precaution," sister Julienne replied steadily. "It would not have stopped what happened yesterday, but could prevent unwanted intruders, particularly when there are only one or two people here."

Patsy looked at the nun and realised that she was concerned for the sisters of the convent as well as the nurses. What would have happened if it had been sister Monica Joan that had answered the door, she wondered.

"Thank you, sister Julienne. It's a shame this has to happen but I can understand why you are doing this."

Delia sat up straighter as a thought struck her, attracting the attention of the other nurses round the table. "Does this mean I have to test the integrity of the drainpipes?" She wondered, recalling the conversation of just a few days ago.

"Only if you forget your key," advised sister Julienne as she moved to leave the room, an impish smile on her face matching the young midwife's.

~ **finis** ~


End file.
